


Nine

by SubjectB2



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 009 - Freeform, Abusive Neil Hargrove, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole, Child Abuse, Empath, Empathy, F/F, F/M, Good Parent Joyce Byers, Hawkins National Laboratory, M/M, Max Centric, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Multi, Neil Hargrove Being an Asshole, Neil Hargrove's A+ Parenting, Nine - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Eleven | Jane Hopper, Protective Jim "Chief" Hopper, Protective Steve Harrington, max is 009, max mayfield has powers, max mayfield is psychic, max was raised in hawkins lab
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-05-16 12:20:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19318066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubjectB2/pseuds/SubjectB2
Summary: When Eleven goes back, there’s another girl in the rainbow room.A name doesn’t come to mind, neither does a number, but something about the girl’s mop of red hair and piercing blue eyes seems oddly familiar- Eleven just can’t quite put her finger on it.





	1. Chapter 1

“Max? Are you listening?” A sudden hand waving in front of her face brought her back into the present. She blinked a few times, turning to find the source of the voice, Lucas, who was looking at her, concern lacing his features.

 

“What? Sorry, what was the question?” She mumbled apologetically, avoiding his gaze.

 

“Are you on for DnD on Saturday?” He repeated, and Max’s eyebrows furrowed.

 

“I thought it was supposed to be Sunday?” She questioned, her face falling slightly. 

 

“It was, but Hopper said El couldn’t go on Sunday so we had to change it to Saturday,” Mike explained matter-of-factly, gesturing to the girl beside him, forgetting yet again that the world didn’t revolve around his girlfriend.       

 

Max shook her head slowly. “I can’t, I have to help out my mom on Saturday,” she lied easily, wincing slightly at her own betrayal of the party’s most important rule, “maybe next time.” Though she’d never admit it, it did still hurt, knowing that the party would always choose El over her, put El’s needs first, but the slight pang in her chest was a warning sign in itself- she needed to calm down. She pushed herself up from the cafeteria bench, slinging her gym bag over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go to gym early, the changing room’ll be less crowded,” she excused herself, as she always did, about to leave before a small voice spoke up from behind her.

 

“I’ll go with you. We have the same class,” Eleven stated, grabbing her bag too.

 

Max nodded awkwardly- she and Eleven were never really alone together, despite beginning to get along. Their friendship was odd, dependent on the party, and though Max longed to be closer to the other girl, she didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by starting up a conversation.

 

They walked to the gym in silence, the halls relatively quiet, many of the students taking the opportunity of the lack of rain to stay outside, away from the prying eyes of the teachers. Max hadn’t thought this far- she always changed alone, arriving late or early to avoid the rest of her class. Eleven being here.. Well, that complicated things. 

 

Max dropped her bag in the corner upon arrival, making sure to be on Eleven’s right side, her left wrist hidden from sight. A small nagging voice in the back of her mind told her that it was okay, but she pushed that aside quickly- she had to stay safe, stay hidden. Max changed as quickly as possible, opting for a long-sleeved shirt that she’d soon regret once they’d started laps. She sat down on the edge of the bench, glancing at Eleven who’d already pulled on her over-sized hand-me-down shorts and t-shirt, not attempting to make conversation. 

 

The bell rang, causing Max to sigh in relief, rising to her feet, looking briefly behind her to see if Eleven was following as she walked into the gym. Mr. Anderson was already there, sat on the bench at the front of the gym, just as he always was. Max was unsure if he ever actually left the room.

 

“Laps, ladies. No point wasting time,” he called, catching sight of the two. Max sighed, taking off in a jog. She didn’t mind gym, though she wouldn’t go as far as to say that she liked it- the teacher was unnecessarily harsh too.

 

-=+=-

 

Gym went by without a hitch, and before she knew it, she was picking up dodge-balls after class. She’d purposely got herself out first, knowing what Mr. Anderson usually made whoever it was pack up the equipment. It wasn’t exactly fun, and Max knew that if she didn’t hurry up, Billy would drive home without her, and she’d have to skate the full ten miles home from school, but it kept her, her family and her friends safe. That was all that seemed to matter anymore.

 

Max cleaned up in record time, returning to the changing rooms, only to find Eleven sat there, waiting. Max frowned slightly, giving her a questioning look. “Do you need something?” She asked cautiously.

 

Eleven shook her head. “I was just waiting for you,” she replied casually, as though this wasn’t the biggest step towards friendship she’d made since she actually started to talk to Max. It took Max a few seconds to process what Eleven had said, her lips slightly parted as she tried to figure out what to say.

 

“Thank you,” were the words that she decided on in the end. Eleven just nodded in response, fiddling with a pin on the back of her bag. Max changed quickly into her normal clothes, trying not to keep the girl waiting. She wasn’t exactly sure why Eleven had decided to wait for her, or what the purpose of it was, considering they weren’t exactly walking home together, but she didn’t want to push her luck by asking.

 

“I’m sorry you can’t come to Mike’s,” Eleven spoke up as they walked down the hall towards their lockers. Max, still in shock from her first gesture of friendship, took even longer to respond than the first time.

 

Sensing that her words were genuine, Max shrugged slightly. “It’s okay. I can go another time.” Eleven stopped in front of her locker, struggling slightly with the lock- some of them were old and didn’t turn as well- before speaking up again.

 

“What are you helping your mom with?” She asked, innocently enough, pulling some of her books out of the locker. Max took a sharp intake of breath, her brain all but audibly whirring with possible excuses. 

 

“Shopping,” she decided on, opening her own locker, “I don’t know why she wants me to come with her, but I can’t exactly say no.”

 

Luckily, Eleven seemed oblivious to her blatant lie, shutting her locker door and leaning against it. “Hop does all the shopping. Sometimes I tell him what to buy but he never listens.” 

 

Max raised an eyebrow at the girl. “That’s because all he would come back with is Eggo's.”

 

Eleven, to Max’s surprise, smiled at her previous comment. It was the first genuine smile that she’d received from the girl, and Max directed one back. Part of her worried that it wasn’t genuine, that this was Max’s doing, and Eleven would soon realize that she still could barely tolerate her, but a glance at the time stopped her in her tracks. 

 

“Shit,” she mumbled, “I have to go, I can’t be late-” Max slammed her locker door shut, wincing slightly at the noise-“see you Monday.” Max jogged across the hall and down the steps, slowing as she approached Billy’s car. She slipped into the passenger seat, her eyes trained on her feet. 

 

“You’re late,” Billy stated, tapping his fingers on the wheel, “you know what happens when you’re late.” Max immediately jumped into defense mode, turning to face him.

 

“Mr. Anderson asked me to-”

 

“I don’t want to hear it Max.” Billy cut her off loudly, his head turning toward her. “If you’re late again, you’re skating home. And you know how my dad would feel about you refusing to get in the car again.” Max fell silent. Billy was bad enough, but he was nothing compared to her step-father when he thought she was jeopardizing the family’s safety.

 

“Are we understood?” Billy asked, starting up the car. Max nodded her head slightly, lips still sealed. When he got no reply, Billy barked the question again. “I said, are we understood?” His tone was harsh, his voice commanding. Max relented. 

 

“Yes,” she mumbled. Billy smirked, looking at her from the front mirror. 

 

“Max?” He repeated, dragging out her name in a sing-song voice.

 

“Yes,” she replied again, her voice louder with undertones of aggression. Billy huffed in approval, his eyes returning to the road, before beginning to drive them home.

 

-=+=-

 

Oh, how she hated math.

 

When she started learning at home, she’d read endless amounts of books to improve her vocabulary, to catch up to the other kids her age, to the point that math and science had been sidelined. This resulted in her high English grade (higher than any of the party, too), yet her below average maths one, and no matter how much help she got from the boys, she never could grasp the concept of anything remotely academic. She was down three of her homework questions, finally, though she doubted any of them were right, and she still had seventeen left to go. Her whole page was filled with scrawled workings out, many of them crossed out in frustration. Math really wasn’t her strong suit.

 

Halfway through her fourth question, she was interrupted by a knock on her window. She pulled the curtains open a few inches, finding a familiar face staring back at her- Will. She lifted the window, a cool breeze hitting her as she walked towards her door to lock it. Neil didn’t like her locking the door, she knew that, but she’d rather be reprimanded than be caught with Will in her bedroom.

 

“What’re you doing here?” She asked, discarding her math homework and sitting back on her bed. 

 

“I just wanted to see you,” he replied after closing the window behind himself, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. Something in Max’s gut told her that he was lying; she raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Why are you really here, Will?” She repeated. Will stared at the ground, trying to hide the guilt in his look. Max almost sighed. She knew what he felt, it hit her in the chest with a sharp pang, the word playing over in her mind.

 

“I just wanted to check that you were okay. You know, about tomorrow.”

 

Max gave a noncommittal shrug, before realizing that he wouldn’t see it. “It’s fine, I don’t mind.” This time, it was her turn to lie, though she was considerably better at it than Will was. In his defense, he didn’t had some extra-sense lie-detector abilities.

 

“How did you get Joyce to let you come here, anyway?” Max asked, trying to start a conversation that wasn’t related to her. Will looked up, smiling sheepishly.

 

“I didn’t,” he admitted, “she doesn’t know I’m here. I told Jonathan where I was going but mom never would’ve let me ride my bike all the way here.” 

 

Max grinned. “Is this rebellion I’m starting to see? I’m impressed.” Will gave her another shy smile as Max nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.

 

Suddenly, it hit her, a sharp pain in her head causing her to hiss in pain. She jerked forwards, nausea rising in her throat as the echo hit her. 

 

_ ‘Don’t tell mom?’ The young boys voice asked, an older boy’s laugh following suit. _

 

_ ‘Be back before dark’, the older replied. _

 

“Max? Max?!” Will’s panicked voice jolted her back to reality. She gripped the edge of the bed for support, the stabbing in her head refusing to pass, the nausea still in her throat. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m alright,” she mumbled, “phantom pain or something.” It took everything in her not to snap at him, the pain overwhelming. She took a deep breath, lifting her head up, only to cause Will to look even more alarmed.

 

“Max, your nose is bleeding,” he frowned. Max was prone to nosebleeds, the party knew that, but something about the timing of this one felt off to Will. He reached behind himself, grabbing a box of tissues off of the nightstand and passing it to Max, who accepted it gratefully. 

 

“Thanks,” she mumbled still, wiping the blood off of her face and holding the tissue under her still-bleeding nose. She opened her mouth to speak, before a rattling of the doorknob made them both jump.

 

“Maxine? What have I told you about locking this door?” Neil’s voice made her blood run cold, even though he was on the other side of the door. Max’s eyes widened, making shooing motions towards Will, who caught on quickly, already opening the window to make his escape. Max chucked the tissue in the bin in the corner of the room, walking to the door once the window was closed and she was sure Will was out of sight, despite how much her head was protesting. She unlocked the door reluctantly, pushing it open, coming face to face with her step-dad’s disproving face, trying to look as though she wasn’t still in pain, and hoping desperately that the blood was gone from her face.

 

Luckily, Neil didn’t notice either of those things. “Why was your door locked?” He asked, frowning at her.

 

“I was about to change,” Max lied quickly. Neil look suspicious, clearly not believe her in the slightest.

 

“You do remember what happened last time I believed you were hiding something from me, Maxine?” Max paled, nodding quickly.

 

“Yes sir. I won’t lock it again,” she replied. Neil, seeming satisfied with her answer, only nodded, before walking down the hallway back to the living room. She shut the door behind him, stumbling back to her bed, where she sat for a few minutes until the pain began to subside. 

 

Figuring she’d actually have to change now, and that she could finish her math homework on Sunday, she grabbed her pajamas out of her draw and pulled them on. The t-shirt was one of the few short sleeved shirts that she owned, the others being specifically for the tests at the lab. 

 

Max slumped down on the floor, leaning against her bed, knees tucked up. She dreaded tomorrow, as she always did, dreaded the hospital and the testing and the talking, dreaded having to go through the incident that just happened with the echoes. It was always overwhelming, stressful, something that she still wasn’t used to, despite having done it most of her childhood, and then the past two years. Max looked down at her bare arms, sighing slightly at the sight of what she already knew would be there.

 

The small ‘009’ tattoo on her left wrist was as visible as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've had this idea for a while but I've never had the motivation to write it. The wait for season 3 has been a long and boring one, so I decided that this was as good a time as ever to start writing.
> 
> Please leave a comment, constructive criticism is very welcome, as well as what you would like to see in future chapters. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Max hated Saturdays with all of her being.

 

This may have seemed strange, coming from a teenage girl, but the weekly visits to Hawkins Lab that fell on those day really put a damper on things.

 

Her mom's heeled footsteps echoed through the halls, her bare feet quieter against the tiled floor. The lights were as harsh as ever, and the faint undertone of bleach was something that she doubted she would ever grow used to. A man- Doctor Simmons, she thinks- pushes open the door for her, ushering them into an all too familiar room. Her mom stood back, watching from the corner of the room as Max made her way to the scale, knowing the routine of the checkup down to a T. Her mom never really said much at the appointment, and she never offered much comfort either. In Max's opinion, she was only there for legal reasons, with her being a minor, though she never dared to bring it up.

 

The first half hour went by quickly enough- the weigh-ins, checking her vitals, those tests never really bothered her. Max’s main problem with the whole ordeal was the EEG that followed suit, the wires around her head triggering memories that she would rather not think about. Being in the Lab again was bad enough, but enduring the tests that came with it? That, Max couldn't always handle. There were often times where panic would set in, leaving her combative to the point where they would have to sedate her, only to later wake up at home in a haze of confusion. As she did every week, Max just hoped that today wasn't one of those days.

 

"So, Max," Dr. Owens began, replacing Dr. Simmons, who only ever did the baseline tests, "how have we been doing?"

 

Max shrugged, focusing more on trying to keep her breaths even than answering his questions. She was never particularly talkative in the sessions anyway, despite how many times she was told that they can’t help her if she doesn’t cooperate- ‘ _ what did it matter _ ?’ She thought, ‘ _ they couldn’t help her anyway _ .’

 

Sensing he wouldn’t get answer unless he prompted her, Dr. Owens continued. “Have you experienced any episodes recently?” He asked, his fingers poised on the keyboard, ready to take notes.

 

Gnawing at her lip, Max shrugged again. This time, however, he was met with a response. “I heard an echo.”

 

This seemed to grab the doctor’s attention, his head snapping up from the computer. “Expand on that- the usual, who, when, what.”

 

Max shifted slightly on the bed. “Yesterday,” she began, swallowing the lump in her throat, “with my friend. Will. He was telling me about how he snuck out, and when I elbowed him, I heard him and Jonathan talking. I only heard about two sentences.” She cast her eyes downwards, refusing to meet his gaze. Dr. Owens, as expected, continued to press her about the event.

 

“You heard Jonathan talking too?” He asked- Max nodded.

 

“And did it hurt?”

 

Max nodded again. “The same as the last time. A sharp pain in my head, then an ache. Only this time it hurt more.”

 

The sound of his methodical typing filled the room, the lack of conversation only giving Max the time to remember where she was. The smell, the lights, the beeping of the heart monitor- everything screamed hospital, and it took everything in Max not to rip the wires off of her head and run down the corridor. She watched her mom glance at her increasing heart rate, a pang of resentment hitting her straight in the chest, evoking a wince that she hoped the busied doctor hadn’t seen. Every week her mom would see her struggling to cope in the lab, and as the weeks went on, she failed to attempt to help her daughter. She supposed it wasn’t that different from home.

 

“So, Max,” Dr. Owen started, fortunately interrupting her quickly darkening train of thoughts, “these episodes you’re having seem to be happening more frequently. This could be down to coincidence, but it’s more likely that it’s down to your own emotions. I’m going to give you some medication to  try to stabilize your moods, if that’s alright with you? We'll monitor your progress on it and see how it goes.” He directed the question at her mom, who she assumed nodded in response, as Dr. Owens pulled out his book to write a prescription. 

 

“Now, here’s the main issue- your abilities seem to be growing stronger, as they should with age. I know you have no wish to do so, but your best option from here would really be learning to control them-”

 

Max’s “no” and her mom’s “absolutely not” cut him off quickly. That was something they had both agreed on from the very beginning, that this was not something Max was going to learn to use against people. She couldn’t.

 

“Very well then,” Dr. Owens sighed, “but let us know if you change your mind.” He motioned to one of the nurses to take the EEG off of Max’s head, a feeling of relief washing over her. It was over- everything was fine.

 

She was lead to a bathroom where she changed back into her normal clothes, handing back the hospital gown to a nurse on the way out. Her mom followed Max out of the building in silence, either not noticing or deciding not to comment on Max's shaking form. Her mom was never one for sympathy, she never really knew what to say when Max was struggling, always deciding to ignore the matter. Max didn't usually mind- she supposed that she was used to it.

 

They were halfway across the car park when Max all but jumped out of her skin at an all-too-familiar figure stepped out of another car. "Shit-" Max's eyes darted around, trying to find somewhere to hide. "She can't see us," Max protested quickly before her mom could even start to reprimand her for swearing. If Joyce knew Max were here, she would likely ask Will about it, and that would be her secret out in the open. Max couldn't have that.

 

She grabbed her mom by the wrist, dragging her quickly to their car before all but jumping into the front seat, praying that she hadn't been seen. If she had, well, Max was royally fucked. She needed to keep her mom safe, her friends safe, and she couldn't do that if people knew about her.

 

Max watched in the rear-view mirror as Joyce walked into the facility, waiting a few seconds before instructing her mom to "hurry up and drive." Max slumped down in her seat, her mind still reeling- that was way too close.

 

Max longed to do nothing but go home and sleep immediately, but wishing seemed futile as her mom pulled into the pharmacy parking lot, dragging Max out of the car with her. Max almost laughed at the thought- like mood stabilizers were  _ actually  _ going to do anything for her. These people had no idea what they were doing, and were honestly more clueless than she was. Mood stabilizers wouldn’t do shit, considering the majority of her emotional outbursts were influenced by other people around her, so unless they were prepared to give all of her friends the medication, the money spent on them would be for nothing.

 

Mr. Swinder, the pharmacist, eyed Max with curiosity, glancing between her and the prescription, a feeling of dread washing over Max. In a town where everybody knew everybody, gossip spread quickly, and Max sincerely doubted that this would stay quiet. She already had a reputation as the kid with the ‘anger management issues’ (her trips to the principal's office were rapidly adding up), and she was sure that confirmed emotional instability would just top it all off. 

 

Max dragged her feet all the way back to the car, folding her arms over her chest in frustration- it wasn’t fair. Day after day, that was all she could think about, the unjust nature of the situation. Maybe she’d be able to cope better if she was like El, stronger, and a tenfold more powerful. El could move things with her mind, for God’s sake- what could she do, sense that people were sad? There wasn’t a lot that Max _wouldn’t_ do to switch powers with the other girl.

 

Trust her to be stuck with empathy of all things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not updating sooner! Season 3 really hit me hard, and I haven't been able to do much but cry about it since it came out. This paragraph is a short one, but I'm hoping that it explains Max's situation a little bit more.
> 
> As always, comments and constructive criticism/anything you want to see are always welcome!


End file.
